HyperGenius
by ElegantButler
Summary: A little girl is born in the wake of a tragedy affecting both Network 23 and its rival Network 66.
1. Love and Tragedy

HyperGenius

-Chapter One: Love and Tragedy-

Jenny Wilcox was glad that she didn't get very many visitors in her studio at Network 66.

Seven and a half months pregnant, she thought quietly of Bryce Lynch, her counterpart at Network 66's rival, Network 23. Bryce was also the father of her child, something that even he was not aware of.

It wasn't that he had used her and left her. He'd never even touched her. As a prerequisite for graduating from ACS, students had been required to donate biological materials. This was done to ensure their genetic line was continued in case of their deaths. These materials were extracted with a syringe, then saved in cryostorage until needed.

Jenny had managed to talk those responsible for the storage unit into giving her some of Bryce's donation and had successfully impregnated herself with it. There was no scientific reason or logical reason for her to do so. She simply loved him and wanted his child.

Recently, she had begun to realize that just being mother to his child wasn't enough. She wanted him to share in the joys and responsibilities of having that child. She wanted to watch him play catch with his son, if it was a boy, or teach the little tyke to use a computer.

Tapping his number into her vu-phone, she rested an idle hand on her swollen belly, smiling as her baby kicked.

"Lynch," Bryce yawned. He looked at Jenny with a mystified expression. "What's with your abdominal area? That's some rather serious…"

"I'm pregnant," Jenny told him. "To save you the bother of asking, I've got another human being inside me and he or she is due to come out in a month and a half. Don't ask how, it's not something your delicate mind can handle. Also, it's yours."

"Mine?"

"I bribed the storage facility to give me some of your genetic material from our graduate donations."

"I'll be there in five minutes. Meet me at the entrance to the car park."

"Bryce…"

"Bring warm clothes."

Jenny nodded. "Okay."

Bryce dressed quickly and ran to the Network 23 car park. He got into the nearest company car. He started it, paused for a split second, then drove to Network 66.

Jenny stared at the car as it pulled up. Before she could run, the driver's side window came down. She was astonished to see Bryce in the driver's seat.

"You stole a car?"

"No," Bryce assured her, "it's a company car. I'm an employee. Get in. We've got to get as far away from this town as we can. Once we're clear we'll set up shop. We can both work for our respective networks from a safe remote location."

"I'm cool with that," Jenny told him, getting into the passenger's seat. As soon as her door was closed, the two teen geniuses headed off, planning their destination along the way.

A man who was driving home exhausted from a triple work shift struck their car ten minutes later. Jolted awake by the crash, he found himself pinned in his own vehicle and called for an ambulance. As he blacked out from pain, he saw the two teens in the car he had hit. He couldn't tell if they were alive or dead.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his heart broken by what he'd done. "Oh, God, I'm sorry."

Cheviot was sound asleep when his vu-phone went off. Groggily, he answered it and was surprised and alarmed to see a doctor on the line. "Has something happened, doctor?"

"It's about Bryce Lynch. Your employee?"

"Yes, he is. Is he ill? Has there been an accident in his lab?"

"There has been an accident. But not in his lab. I need you to come to the Southside Medical Center immediately."

Cheviot nodded, disconnected the call, and got dressed.

His wife woke and looked at him, sleepily. "What's wrong?"

"Bryce has been in an accident," he told her.

"How bad?" she asked, getting dressed herself. She hadn't ever met Bryce herself, but knew that Cheviot thought highly of him. At least as an employee.

"I don't know," Cheviot admitted. "You don't have to come, Danielle."

"Yes, I do," Danielle answered. "You might need emotional support if…"

"Let's not think about that."

At the same time that the Cheviots were getting dressed, Ned Grossberg was on the phone with the same doctor.

"What about Jenny?" he asked, his voice alarmed. "What kind of accident?"

"It was a car crash," the doctor said, regretfully. "You'd better come down at once. Southside Medical Center."

Grossberg disconnected, got dressed, and ran outside to his car.

Arriving at Southside, he ran into Cheviot in the lobby. "Why are you here?"

"Bryce was in an accident of some kind," Cheviot said, too tired and worried to think of their rivalry.

"They must've been together," Grossberg mused to himself.

"What?"

"I said, our two heads of Research and Development must've gotten together for some reason. They were classmates at ACS, right?"

"So you think they were going to a class reunion at two in the morning?"

"Mr. Cheviot. Mr. Grossberg."

The two Network Presidents turned to face the bearded man who'd spoken to them.

"I'm Dr. Stephens," he said.

"How's Bryce?" Cheviot asked.

"How's Jenny?" Grossberg inquired at the same time.

"I'm sorry," Dr. Stephens replied. "They were both killed in the crash. Their car was sideswiped by a man who fell asleep at the wheel."

"Their car?" Grossberg asked

"Who was driving?" Cheviot inquired

"Bryce Lynch was," the doctor replied, "according to the paramedics. Now, if you two gentlemen and the lady would come this way…"

Grossberg and the Cheviots followed the doctor until they arrived at a large window. Through it they could see several incubators. In one of them was a tiny premature baby.

Cheviot and Grossberg exchanged glances, then stared at the tiny newborn.

"The child was removed from Miss Wilcox's womb moments after her body arrived here. A girl. Her due date according to the hospital records was to be in six weeks, so she's only just premature. She'll be able to come out of the incubator in two weeks. She's suffered no trauma or birth injuries."

"I can't believe Jenny hid this from me," Grossberg said in awe.

"What does this have to do with Bryce?" Cheviot inquired.

"We ran a DNA scan and determined that he was the father of this little girl."

"So she's a genius, right?" Cheviot asked.

"Her natural IQ level is off the charts according to the brain scan we did," Dr. Stephens replied. "Now, I need to get in touch with the grandparents. Do either of you have their contact information?"

Cheviot and Grossberg both shook their heads.

"They might have that information at ACS. They were both students there." Grossberg suggested after a moment.

"Thank you, Mr. Grossberg." Dr. Stephens said. "I'll leave you three alone. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, doctor," Grossberg said. "Oh, have Jenny's body laid to rest at Gladhand Meadows."

"Same for Bryce," Cheviot added.

"I'll see that that's done," Dr. Stephens promised as he left them at the window of the incubation room.


	2. School Day One

-Chapter Two: School Day One-

"Morning, Uncle Murray," a small voice sang.

Murray yawned and turned his head as he woke from a light sleep.

Peering over the edge of the bed at him was a girl who was just five years old. She had reddish brown hair and deep turquoise eyes.

He remembered the day she had become his ward. That terrible day when Bryce Lynch had been killed in a car crash after taking a Network 23 company car and trying to flee with his pregnant counterpart who had worked for their rival Network 66.

After trying to locate the child's grandparents without success, the doctors had spoken with Cheviot and Grossberg. Both men had requested custody should no family be found. They and a social worker listened to each man carefully. In the end, they were firmly convinced that neither man had the child's best interest in mind. It seemed that the child would be placed in foster care when Murray had spoken up.

After listening to him, they had agreed that the baby girl would be best off with him. He'd known the child's father and would form a bond with the child. And he wasn't overly concerned about whether or not she would grow up to take her father's place.

That turned out to be a good thing. Because while she was already showing interest in and talent for technology, her true genius was in music. She picked up notes and phrases with great ease. And she sang them easily, even at her early age.

"Morning, Bryce," Murray said. The name still made him uneasy. But records had revealed that Jenny had decided to call her child Bryce Lynch Jr, and Theora had talked him into going ahead with it, even though the baby was a girl.

"Can we have eggs for breakfast? Please?"

Murray smiled. "Not today, I'm afraid." he told her. "You'd better hurry and get dressed, though. Today's your first day of school. We're both running a little late. I'll have to make you a toaster pastry this time. But I'll make it up to you tonight. We'll got out for supper."

"Yay!"

The girl dressed quickly, but not clumsily into her school uniform, a red shirt bearing the school logo and medium grey pants. In five minutes she was dressed, fed, and wincing slightly as Murray wiped a stray bit of pastry jam from the corner of her mouth.

She followed him out to the car and got in. He paused to help with her seatbelt. Then got in and drove to the school.

He wondered, as he drove, if one day her tech skills would but enough for her to attend ACS as her parents had. Or would she attend some prestigious music school instead?

They quickly made it to Tufnell Park. Murray found a spot to park the car, then let Bryce Jr out.

She quietly chewed her lower lip, looking for all the world like the nervous little five year old girl she was rather than the offspring of two teen geniuses.

Taking the hand of her 'Uncle' Murray, she let him lead her into the school.

Not long after, the Headteacher, Richard Davies, led her to her home room.

"Bryce Lynch Jr, this is your home room teacher Sydney Harding,"

The teacher looked at the small girl with surprise in his eyes. "When I was Head Sysop at the Academy of Computer Sciences, I taught a boy named Bryce Lynch. Is he your father?"

Bryce Jr shrugged. "I don't know. I guess. Maybe. I grew up with Uncle Murray."

"Oh," Harding said. "I'm sorry. Well, if he was then come and talk to me. I have all kinds of good stories for you about him."

"Okay," Bryce Jr grinned. It would be neat, she figured, to find out more about her father, especially since she was named after him.


	3. New Friends

-Chapter Three - New Friends-

Bryce Lynch Jr checked her schedule to see what her first class of the day was.

Math. Followed by Literacy, Science, and ICT. Then lunch followed by Art and Music. Geography and History alternated at the end of the day, with Geography on Mondays,

Wednesday, and Fridays.

It took her some time to find her class. As a result she was a couple of minutes late.

"Come in, young lady," the teacher, according to the chalkboard, said in a firm, scolding tone. "I expect you have a reason for being late?"

"I'm sorry, sir," Bryce Jr said, meekly. "I got lost. It's my first day."

"In the future, I expect that when decided to become lost you will do so with more punctuality."

"I will try, sir."

"Good," Mr. Collns gave a small smile. "Now, you may take a seat over there." He pointed to a vacant seat and turned back to the chalkboard.

Bryce Jr sat down. She watched, listened, and played with the old-style pencil that she had taken out of her book bag.

Mr. Collins took it from her, rather abruptly, and held it up. "In case you were all wondering, this tool is called a pencil. It was used by your grandparents as a method of marking down, or 'writing' as it was called, numerical equations, words, and phrases. It is still used today by many artists in the styles known as Sketching and Doodling. Today we use printers and portable storage, so the art of 'writing' has been gradually diminished. But enough of that. I'm sure that Miss Primly, your Literacy teacher, will cover the subject more thoroughly. You'll get it back after class."

Most of the rest of the class listened with mixed levels of attention.

"Where did you find a pencil?" one of her classmates asked her as she put it back in her book bag and began walking to her next class.

"It's my Uncle Murray's," she told him. "This place is really big. I hope I don't get lost again. I had my birthday too late to start last week. But they let me come this year anyhow. I heard Uncle Murray and the teacher who came to visit say it was because it was only a week and I can catch up. 'cept I don't know anyone."

"I'm Cole," the boy told her.

"Bryce Jr," the girl replied. "I was named after my father. He was super smart."

"Are you?" Cole asked, peering closely at her ear.

"What are you doing?"

"Seeing if you got a brain."

"Don't be daft," Bryce Jr told her. Then, with a smirk, she added "it's on the other side."

They both looked at each other, made a face, and cracked up laughing.


	4. After School

-Chapter Four : After School -

Murray checked the clock in the Control Room at Network 23 later that day. It read three o'clock.

"I have to run," he told Theora. She, like Edison Carter, still worked at the network; the What I Want to Know show now in it's seventh year. "I have to be at the school to pick up Bryce Jr in half an hour."

"I'm sure Edison and I can hold down the fort while you're gone," Theora told him as he walked out.

"Where'd Murray go?" Edison asked when he returned ten minutes later.

"Don't you remember? It's Bryce Jr's first day at primary school."

"Oh, that's right," Edison said, snapping his fingers. "I'd forgotten."

"Good thing you don't have custody, then," Theora said.

"I think I'd remember if I did," Edison shrugged. "How do you think she did?"

"Ask her," Theora told him. "I bet she's all excited to talk about it."

Bryce Lynch Jr was indeed excited about her day. As soon as she was buckled into and Murray was driving, she began to talk.

"Miss Primly's my Literacy teacher. She's really nice."

"Which subject did you learn today?" Murray asked her.

"Speaking. She said speaking clearly is very important."

"It is," Murray agreed, though he didn't go into why. "What other classes did you have?"

"Math. There's this boy in class who's really funny."

"Oh, what's his name?"

"Cole," Bryce Jr said. "I like him."

"Well, I'm glad you made a friend," Murray told her. "That's very important."

"Can Cole come over some day?"

"Maybe he can visit on the weekend if his parents say it's okay." Murray told her. "Is he the only friend you made today?"

"Well, I met this girl Sharon. But she wasn't nice. She said she's better than me and Cole and people like us."

"Well, she's not," Murray told her. "Just because someone has a lot of credits, or lives in a fancy-looking place doesn't make them better."

"It just make them snooty, right?"

"Where'd you hear that word?" Murray wondered aloud.

"From Aunty Theora." Bryce Jr replied. "Is it a bad word?"

"No," Murray told her. "It's just not used by kids your age very often. Then again, I have to remember who your parents were."

"Are we going to Network 23?"

"Yes. Until five. Then I'm taking you to dinner like I promised."


	5. Stopping In At Control

-Chapter 5: -

Cheviot's face appeared on the vu-phone screen in the control room not long after. He was wearing a kindly smile on his face and his eyes sparkled in a grandfatherly way.

"I see our favorite little girl is here," he said. "How was school today, Bryce Jr?"

"It was okay," Bryce Jr told him. She wasn't sure she liked Cheviot. He seemed nice, but her Uncle Murray always seemed a little put off by the man's friendliness to his ward. She wandered off, disinterestedly, as Edison smiled. Only a kid like her could get away with giving Cheviot the brush-off.

Murray was certain that Cheviot was just trying to make certain that she would take her father's place when the time came. He didn't think it was necessary. Their current head of Research and Development, seventeen-year-old Jeremy Bowie, was rather good at his job.

Jeremy reminded Edison a little of Bryce, though he was a bit more emotional. He got along well with Max Headroom. The first day he'd come to work, he'd asked Max how Bryce had planned to finish a project that he'd wanted to pick up and complete. Max had liked the way the new kid had respected Bryce's wishes, and had bonded with him in friendship.

Jeremy also got along swimmingly with Bryce Jr, treating her like a kid sister ever since he met her when she was two at a party at Murray's house. Her birthday party, in fact. Murray had told everyone she liked to sing, and Jeremy had given her a children's cordless microphone with a built-in speaker as a gift.

"Uncle Murray," Bryce Jr asked. "Can I go see Bo?"

"I think he's busy working right now, hon'," Murray told her. "But you'll see him on Friday after school. Remember he promised he'd watch you while I'm in a meeting?"

"I remember," Bryce Jr agreed.

Bryce Jr stood by Theora's control desk, watching her work, while Edison headed back out into the field to cover the opening of a new Zik Zak restaurant.

Edison was happiest covering high-stakes controversial topics. It was what he was best at. But he also understood the importance of simpler stories. Especially human-interest pieces. They were good for ratings. And at least most of them weren't manipulative.

"Is that where we're going for supper?" Bryce Jr asked as the restaurant appeared on the screen.

"I guess we can go there," Murray said. "I don't know if they have a kids' menu, though."

"Can Edison and Theora come, too?"

"I can't," Theora apologized. "I promised my brother, Shawn, I'd go visit him and his family. But I'll tell you what, if your Uncle Murray says it's okay, you can come to my place for a girls' sleepover on Sunday and I'll drive you to school on my way to work. Is that okay with you, Uncle Murray?"

Murray pretended to consider it for a moment.

"Aw, come on, Uncle Murray?" Bryce Jr pleaded. Then, she sang "Please?"

Murray smiled. He loved it when she sang. "Okay. But you have to be in bed with lights out by nine. Right?"

Right," Bryce Jr agreed.


	6. Sunday Morning Chat

-Chapter 6: Sunday Morning Chat-

Like Cheviot, Ned Grossberg had always hoped that little Bryce Jr would eventually come to work for him. He had, after all, been her mother's employer. And as far as he knew, she would one day go to ACS, just as her parents had.

It had been he who had talked Sydney Harding into leaving ACS and getting a job at the primary school where he had learned the child would be attending in order to keep an eye on her and find out how strong her computer and other tech skills were.

"So, what's she like?" Grossberg asked Harding as the two men sat in Grossberg's kitchen on a Sunday morning with two cups of coffee the Network 66 Chairman had brewed. "As brilliant as her parents, I bet."

"She has great talent," Harding said, his tone conversational. "Unfortunately not in the area of expertise you were hoping for."

"What do you mean?" Grossberg asked.

"Bryce Lynch Jr is a musical prodigy. She has a lot of talent with computers, also. But she seems more interested in music keyboards than those that are linked to computers. You might be able to get her to sign on as a performer one day. But I'm afraid she'll never be your head of Research and Development."

"Ah, well," Grossberg shrugged after a moment's thought. "At least she won't be Cheviot's either. Now I've just got to figure out how to get her to sign on as a performer when the time comes."

"In my opinion, I say sign her up now. Cute child singers are very popular entertainers. And Bryce Jr has one of the best voices I've ever heard. Especially for a five year old. Though she honestly sings better than many of the adults I've heard. I was passing her music class on Friday and they were doing songs by an old group called the Beatniks or Beatoes or something…"

"The Beatles," Grossberg said, smiling a litle. "My mother had a couple of their albums. Which song was she singing?"

"Something about 'the farther one travels'." Harding said, straining to recall the lyrics he'd heard."

Grossberg also took a moment to try and remember. It was one of the more obscure tunes by his late mother's favorite group. As he thought about it, he remembered her singing it to him once when he'd been in bed sick and couldn't sleep.

"It's called the Inner Light," he finally said. "Nice song. But it's a bit obscure. I wonder why they picked that one and not Yellow Submarine. That was always a kids' favorite when I was in school."

"I'll try to persuade the music teacher to lean on her to join the talent show next month," Harding decided. "That way you can observe her for yourself. It's open to the public. That's one of the ways the school makes money to spend on lunches and their playground equipment."

"Isn't that risky?" Grossberg asked.

"If you were a child-stealing pervert would you try to take a child from a school full of overprotective and watchful parents?" Harding asked. "Only a fool would try something that insane. And he wouldn't live long if he did. They're also smart enough to require everyone sign in and present a photo ID which is logged in along with the name."

"Her 'Uncle' Murray will no doubt also be there," Grossberg realized. "Along with Edison Carter and the rest of her late father's old pals. Won't they be suspicious?"

"You were her mother's employer," Harding reminded him. "So you have just as much right to watch her as they do. You'll just have to politely remind them of that fact if they give you any trouble."


End file.
